Wounds
by MegEvans1983
Summary: Picks up in 3.10: when Sam breaks up with Andy after Jerry's is killed, she has to find some way to keep going. Includes my version of a character study of Sam, and what has made him who he is.
1. Memories

**A/N: **a one-shot that quickly turned into a multi-chaptered story ... begins in 3.10 and explores the breakup and a look at the character of Sam.

I'd love to hear your thoughts, and please leave me lots of feedback :o)

* * *

**[chapter one]**

The color red is fused into Andy's brain. Everywhere she looks these days, she sees that color, or thinks she sees it. On the floor of her condo where Gail had been attacked, on Sam's hands after having found Jerry lying in a pool of his own blood. But right now, in this very moment; it's swiveling around in a bucket of water after she has tried to scrub it off of her hardwood floors for the umpteenth time.

Her hands are raw from the task at hand, but having a job to occupy herself with helps, as futile as it might be. It makes it possible for her to push everything into a tight space in the back of her mind, at least for a little while. But the thing is that it always comes back, it comes barreling back like an insentient drill that just won't stop.

Jerry had been buried yesterday morning; there had been a vast attendance of family, friends and co-workers. It had been beautiful, yet heartbreaking, because she knew in her heart of hearts that she would be standing there again. She had chosen _this_ job, or maybe it had chosen her. But doing this job, also means coming to the realization that she would lose more colleagues in the years to come than she would gain.

Sam hadn't been able to look her in the eyes; his gaze had been trained on the casket the entire time. He blames himself, she knows he does. But somewhere, deep inside of her, she thinks, no, she knows that he blames her too.

* * *

_Their hands were interlocked next to Andy's head on the pillow. His grasp was strong; it was almost like he was afraid, that if he lessened his hold, she would disappear into thin air. Sam's lips were hungry against Andy's, though when the need for air became too great, he slid them to her neck, licking, kissing and biting, while she struggled to get her breathing under control._

_He had driven her home that night, the night Jerry had died. No words had been spoken in the silver truck, the tension so thick that you could have sliced a knife through it. Andy had attempted to say something, anything, but had failed to let a single word leave her lips – a feeling she wasn't accustomed to._

_No more than five minutes after Andy had locked her front door shut; there had come a knock from that direction. She had known instantly who it would be, but she had had no idea what he wanted. After having found Jerry at the house, they'd barely spoken two words to each other._

_The minute she had opened the door, she knew what he wanted. Therefore it didn't come as a surprise to her when Sam had grabbed her by the waist and pushed her up against the nearby wall. His eyes had been so dark, like a thunderstorm about to erupt when he had slanted his mouth across hers, curling his rampant tongue around hers. _

_Andy had yelped when he had placed his hands underneath her thighs and had hoisted her up, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. With her pelvis against his stomach, Sam had kicked the door shut before walking them both in the direction of her bedroom._

_It had been intense, dark and so far from what she was used to with Sam. True, they had done a lot of stuff together by now, but Andy had always been able to feel him somehow, feel the love he had for her but couldn't say, but that night, all she had been able to feel had been his grief. _

_Pushing himself off of her, Sam landed on his back with a noisily groan, as they both attempted to catch their strangled breaths. Both of them stared into the ceiling, as if it would reveal what would come next to them. _

_When that didn't happen, Sam rubbed his face with one calloused palm, while Andy held a skinny hand against her chest trying to calm her thundering heart down. She slid her other hand across the sheet until she felt the warmth of his hand, placing her hand on top of his and squeezing._

"_I gotta go," Sam sighed separating their hands hurriedly before hoisting himself onto the side of the bed._

"_Sam, we need to talk," Andy told him pushing herself into a seating position on the bed, clutching the sheet against her chest._

_Sam stood up, revealing his rippled backside to her ravenous eyes before busying himself with dragging his boxers and jeans on before even attempting an answer to her previous question. "Andy…," he sighed leaning down to grab his tee shirt before pulling it over his head._

"_You can't just leave like this…," she argued watching him tying up his boots before grabbing his leather jacket off of the chaise, and struggling to put his arms through the sleeves._

"_I'll call you," Sam told her before disappearing through the bedroom door. Hastily she heard the front door slam shut, and Andy slumped against the headboard of the bed, realizing that since pulling his body off of hers, Sam hadn't looked at her. _

_She missed the feeling of his eyes on her. _

* * *

By now, exactly one week has passed, one-hundred-and-sixty-eight hours since everyone at 15 Division lost one of their own. A dark cloud has settled over them all, it's presence in the everyday occurrences at the Division abundantly clear.

When they walk past the now empty lot where _Stella_ used to be parked, his empty desk, his empty locker and the emptiness in general that Jerry left behind, when he left them all behind.

Sam has lost his colleague and best friend, Traci; her fiancé and step-father of Leo and Andy; well she feels like she's not only lost Jerry; a friend and colleague but also Sam; the man she just a few weeks earlier had told that she loved.

This past week has been horrific – no question about it. Everything Andy has thought would happen – well, she has been more wrong than right this past week, which is ironic considering the fact that prior to enrolling in the academy Andy studied Sociology / Psychology. So, the human mind is something that should be an easy thing for her to tap into, and it usually is.

But, this is Sam Swarek, and if there's one thing he's _not_, then it's an easy read.

Deciding enough is enough; Andy stands up from her crouch on the floor, staring down at the fading evidence of what had happened in this very spot, a week ago. As her mind wanders, a quote she knows very well – one she did a paper on, slaved countless hours over - enters her distraught mind.

* * *

"_**It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone."**_

* * *

This past week Sam has been more drunk than sober, and she is nearing the end of the line of putting up with it. She spent her teenage years watching her father, drunk out of his mind, unable to ask for help, no way is she putting herself through that again. Andy knows that he's hurting, but putting the blame on her, and walking out on her in that cold and wet parking lot with the words _"I can't be a cop and be with you,"_ hanging in the air had been beyond hurtful – it had been downright cruel.

Cruel because when she had come back from North Bay they had started over, they had agreed to give _them _a go, they had agreed to work on their differences. But having heard those words coming out of his mouth had _almost_ made her knees buckle beneath her.

She is tired of crying, tired of feeling miserable, she's basically tired. A realization she had come to in the confines of Traci's living room, who one night had found that the task of settling Leo down for the night had been too much for her to muster.

So, in reality between Sam's temper tantrums and Traci's need for help with her son, Andy hasn't really had any time to deal with her own emotions. She has been attacked, and she still doesn't know how she feels about _that_. But she figures now is probably not the time to act all selfish, which is also why every night her bedtime ritual has consisted of her turning on her side in bed, burying her face in her pillow and sobbing uncontrollably.

Today is the first night she'll spend in the condo where it had all begun. She has been staying at her dad's for the past week ever since everything went downhill between her and Sam. She can't even remember the last time he touched her, kissed her, loved her.

Okay, she does remember their last kiss, their last mind-blowingly kiss, which also coincided with Sam walking out on her, _again_. He had turned up on her dad's doorstep – Tommy had been out with Amy – under the pretense of returning a hoodie of hers. Sam had looked so forlorn upon passing the hoodie to Andy, that all she had really wanted to do had been to take him into her arms, and make it all go away. But she had known that she couldn't do that, _A)_ because he would probably run away screaming and _B)_ because it hadn't been a hurt she could make go away.

* * *

"_You alone?" Sam had asked – a weird sense of déjà-vu occurring – both of them instantly remembering the last time they had been standing on a doorstep and one of them had asked that very question._

"_Yeah," Andy breathed still feeling anger boiling inside of her. Who the hell did he think he was showing up like this? "Why?"_

"_We need to talk," he explained further, shifting nervously on his feet. _

"_Talk?" Andy almost spat the word back at him. _

"_Can I come in?" Sam asked nudging his head in the direction of the lamp illuminating the living room showcasing a plump leather couch in front of a flat screen TV._

"_Sure," she gave a sigh before stepping back allowing him to enter her dad's house. _

_It had taken a lot of favors and a very tenacious bank manager, but Tommy McNally had finally been able to purchase a decent home. A home he had always secretly wanted to give Andy, while growing up. It was a three bedroom house located in the outskirts of Toronto. As Sam walked past the threshold he noticed the framed photograph of a young Andy and Tommy standing on a table in the foyer. There was a flight of stairs leading up to the upstairs bedrooms. Andy placed the hoodie on the railing leading upstairs before following Sam further into the house. She passed him, walking in the direction of the sparsely furnished living room that he found to his liking in its simplicity. There was an integrated kitchen that wasn't too big, but undoubtedly big enough for Tommy._

"_What is it?" Andy asked flipping her lap top closed on the dining table before facing him. _

"_We need to talk," Sam said repeating his earlier words. _

"_**You**__ want to __**talk**__?" Andy asked in disbelief – almost tripping over the audacity of his words. Sam had blatantly refused to talk about __**it**__ ever since __**it**__ had happened. True, Andy wasn't exactly an open book, but she didn't shut down completely, refusing to let the people who loved her in. _

"_Andy, please," he pleaded with her. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and a deep sigh escaped him as if he was gearing up to tell her some deep kept secret. "I can't do this anymore." He added making Andy gape at him in surprise._

"_What?" she asked unable to decipher what exactly it was that he couldn't do anymore? They were already broken up, what else was there left to say?_

"_This, us. Going in circles," Sam tried to explain to her, waving his hands between them. _

"_Going in circles? We're not going anywhere, Sam, because you won't talk to me!" she snapped at him. "You broke up with me, remember?" she retorted, the memory of that night in the dark parking lot as clear as day. _

"_Today made me realize all over again, that we __**are**__ too different, and why I can't do __**this**__ anymore." He was talking about their recent case with an informant. She, Nick and Sam had been outside in an unmarked car, while the informant had been inside. When there had been some trouble with the wire, Andy had gone in to check on the situation, and had ended up being cornered by an unknown third party. _

_Sam had afterwards been furious, and okay, yeah – it had been a close call, but she'd protected herself like she'd been taught in the academy with a swift elbow to the perpetrator's face, and they had made the required arrests. Only Sam hadn't seen it quite like that. _

"_What are you talking about?" Andy asked exasperatedly not seeing the point of the conversation._

"_I can't be a cop, and be with you," once again those words left his mouth and all but made Andy double over in pain. "Today made it abundantly clear to me that those two things cancel each other out." He rubbed the back of his neck, as Andy tried to make sense of what he was saying. Why had he shown up tonight? Did he get some perverse enjoyment out of hurting her all of the sudden? After everything it had taken for them to be together, he was just throwing it right out the window?_

"_Why are you here, Sam? What do you want?" Her voice was breaking, and the tell-tale sound of a sob coming on was there, but Andy didn't care, she just stared at the man standing in front of her. A man, she hadn't in a million years though capable of hurting her like this, in such an unbearable way. _

"_Hey," Sam took a step forward, holding her head in his hands. "You'll be okay, Andy," he traced the tears that had run down her cheeks with his thumbs. "We're just, we're too different, and I'm in a weird place right now." He spoke directly from his heart, but it didn't hurt any less because of that. _

_Andy inhaled a shuddering breath when he pressed his forehead against hers. He bumped her nose with his before slanting his mouth across hers, eliciting a whimper from her throat. She grabbed his leather clad arms, holding on for dear life, as Sam coaxed her mouth open with his. Wrapping her arms around his waist, Andy held on tight willing him to never leave her, despite the fact that she knew that was exactly what would happen in a matter of minutes. Sam thrust his tongue into her mouth exploring it for one last time before pulling away groaning. _

"_Don't go," she begged grabbing a hold of his wrists, his hands still framing her face, willing him to stay put. "Please, stay." Her brown eyes searched his for any sign of a change of heart._

"_I can't, I'm sorry," he sighed apologizing averting his eyes from hers. "I'll see you around, McNally," Sam stepped back, walking backwards watching her cover her mouth with her hand. He turned on his heel when the sight of a distraught Andy was imprinted on his brain. _

_Before she was even aware, he was gone. Though, it wasn't until she heard the engine of his truck starting up, that she realized the reality of the situation. _

_They were really over. _

* * *

Andy hasn't seen nor heard from him for two consecutive days – she's trying to play this _his_ way. If she played it _her_ way she'd be camped out on his front porch, refusing to go home before they talked this whole thing through. But Sam isn't a talker, he's a doer. It took her about five seconds of knowing him to figure than one out. So, she guesses giving him some breathing room from her and her questions is the right thing to do, even though, she hates every minute of it.

"Time and space," Andy scoffs before picking up the bucket with the now reddish water in it before walking to the sink and pouring it down the drain.

After placing the empty bucket underneath the sink, she tip-toes into the spare bedroom where Leo is sleeping. He insisted on spending the night, and Traci hadn't been opposed to the idea, needing some time to herself.

Leo had initially been disappointed to find Andy's condo devoid of Sam, but they had grabbed a couple of slices and watched a movie of Leo's choice. He had finally nodded off at about ten o'clock, and after having tucked him in, Andy had started in on her cleaning adventure.

Watching the slow rise and fall of Leo's chest, Andy feels envious of his tranquility. An idea quickly forms in her head, and she instantly knows what she needs to do.

* * *

"_Forget about it," Sam grumbled pressing the pillow against his face trying to block out the sun shining through the windows in Andy's bedroom._

"_Come on, why not?" Andy asked standing clad in her yoga pants, a singlet and an unzipped hoody draped across her shoulders._

"_Isn't that obvious?" Sam moaned turning onto his stomach displaying his amazing back muscles to her hungry gaze._

"_You're really not a morning person, eh?" Andy giggled inching closer to the bed, pulling her dark tresses into a pony tail._

"_Not at…," he briefly turned on his side to gawk at the alarm clock, but seeing that it was barely seven, he rolled onto his stomach again burying his head into the creases of the pillow. "…the crack of dawn," he complained sleepily._

"_Figures you were a good pretend druggie, they never get out of the sack before noon," Andy joked placing her knees on the edge of the bed peering down at him._

_That makes his eyes pop open, "I'll show you '__**good pretend druggie'**__, McNally," he muttered grabbing her by the waist, initiating a yelp from Andy before tumbling her down onto the empty space next to him, and climbing her body._

"_Sam!" she squeaked, as he began placing wet kisses along the rise of her throat. "I have to be in yoga class in…," Andy turned her head sideways to look at the alarm clock before adding, "…thirty minutes…" she hummed when Sam's skilled lips and tongue hit __**the**__ spot on her now sensitive throat. _

"_I can be fast," Sam promised taking a hold of the singlet Andy was wearing and moving it upwards passing her ribs before the elastic band of her black sports bra became visible._

"_Oh, I know," Andy giggled, but began laughing hysterically when Sam's calloused fingers began tickling her relentlessly until he silenced her with his skilled mouth._

_Yoga was definitely out __**that**__ morning._

* * *

"What are you doing Auntie Andy?" a sleepy voice belonging to Leo asks a little while later. Andy is sitting cross-legged in her living room surrounded by lit scented candles, wearing her yoga pants and an old academy tee shirt of Sam's.

"I am relaxing my body and mind, buddy," Andy tells him trying to concentrate on her breathing exercises, the palms of her hands pressed against each other.

"How?" the ever inquisitive Leo Nash asks quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

"When I breathe out, I'm releasing all the bad energy that's in my body," she tells him before exhaling loudly.

"Oh!" Leo nods his head seemingly understanding before sitting down cross-legged opposite her. "But how will you know that you're relaxed?" he wants to know.

"The universe will tell me," Andy answers him.

"How?"

"All I have to do is reach out to the universe. Once I touch it, the universe will touch me back."

"But _how_?" Leo stresses.

"I will have found my center, and feel at peace with myself," she tries to explain to him.

"Alrighty!" Leo shrugs his shoulders. "Do you miss him?" he suddenly asks catapulting Andy into the real world.

She opens her eyes, gazing at the little boy sitting across from her. So much has happened to him in the short span of a couple of weeks. "Yeah, I do."

"Then why don't you kiss and make up?" Leo asks and his question almost makes Andy laugh out loud. If only the real world worked the way it did in the mind of an eight-year-old.

"It's complicated, Dude," Andy tells him blowing out the candles in front of her.

"That's what mom says when I ask her about Jerry too," he shrugs his shoulders before padding into Andy's bedroom, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor.

"You okay, Dude?" Andy asks five minutes later, leaning against the door frame of her bedroom door watching Leo burying underneath the covers.

"Yup!" he pops the 'p' before turning on his side looking at the framed photograph on the bedside table. "Can I sleep in here tonight?" Leo asks, as the bed dips when Andy sits down on the edge running her fingers through his unruly curls.

"Sure," Andy nods her head turning her head sideways to take in the people in the framed photograph that Leo's eyes are glued to. It had been taken the evening of her housewarming party – Traci and Andy standing front and center behind the cooking island with Jerry and Sam behind them, the men's arms wrapped protectively around the women's waists – all four of them grinning widely at the photographer.

Despite her anger towards Sam, and the way he has dealt with Jerry's death, she can't help but swim away in his brown eyes and dimples when looking at that picture. She misses those arms, she missed _him_, period.

"I miss him," Leo sighs in the back of his throat rubbing his eyes, undoubtedly from the onslaught of tears pressing on his tear ducts.

"I know you do, Dude, I know," Andy rubs his back soothingly, watching as his heavy eyelids drop. She tucks the sheet over his shoulders before pressing a kiss to his forehead. She figures she might as well try and catch some sleep, as unobtainable as it might be.

* * *

When the alarm clock changes from 00:59 to 01:00 am, Andy decides enough is enough, and gets out of bed, careful not to wake up Leo, who has surprisingly enough been fast asleep next to her ever since falling asleep a couple of hours ago.

She places a couple of throw pillows, where she had been laying merely a couple of seconds ago, at the off chance that he wakes up and reaches out for her. She doesn't want him to wake up scared and thinking that he's alone.

Andy makes her way to the sink, and fills a glass with water before taking a grateful sip of the cooled beverage. In mid-gulp she eyes her cell lying on the kitchen island, an idea forms in her head, and unable to shake it, she puts the glass down before grabbing her cell, and pressing a number that's been seared into her brain for the past three years.

"It's Sam, leave a message." His monotone message on his answering machine greets her at one in the morning.

"Hey, it's me," Andy rolls her eyes at her obvious greeting. "Obviously," she adds. "I haven't heard from you in two days now, and I'm getting worried, Sam." She bites down on her lower lip, willing the tears to subside. "Leo's here tonight, and I just…I don't know what to say anymore to make him feel better, like with you."

Andy walks to the couch, sitting down with one knee bent, resting her chin on it, "I know, Andy McNally – lost for words is something of a contradiction, but there you have it," she smiles a weak smile. "I just really need to know that you're okay, I _want_ you to be okay, Sam. I want _us_ to be okay. Just give me a call, okay? Or even just a text if that's…if that's easier," she croaks out taking a deep breath balancing out her shot nerves.

"I love you," she tells him before ending the call, cradling the cell against her chest, while closing her eyes and hoping that the message reaches him in time.

In time for whatever comes next.


	2. Six Days

**A/N: **Finally!

Sorry it took me four months to post this chapter ... inspiration has been sorely lacking for this story, but I think I've re-discovered my muse now ;)

The next couple of chapters will be quite angsty, but I promise to make it worth it in the end ;)

Many thanks to **MD14** for looking this through ...

* * *

**[chapter two]**

"_**It's Sam, leave a message."**_

"Dammit Sam!" She curses, shutting her cell phone off before throwing it onto the top shelve in her locker.

"Hey," Traci's concerned voice snaps Andy out of her foul mood. "What's wrong?"

Nash gets up from the bench, where she's been sitting to stand next to her best friend, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Taking a deep breath she tells Traci that she has been unable to reach Sam for the past six days. "I _know_ that we're not together anymore, okay?" Andy says running her teeth through her bottom lip. "But I can't stop caring about him."

"I know, sweetie," Traci's warm voice consoles her, running a hand up and down Andy's back. "I know."

"Why won't he talk to me?" her weak voice asks devoid of any strength.

"He's hurting right now," Traci tells her, as they walk to the bench and sit down. The locker room is unusually quiet for a Monday morning.

"We all are." Andy states matter-of-factly.

"I know..," she tells her.

"Oh my God, Traci..," slapping a hand to her forehead, Andy realizes how insensitive she's being. She may have broken up with Sam, but Jerry _died_.

And nothing will ever bring him back.

"Don't worry about it," she brushes Andy's apology off with a wave of her hand. "I'm not the only one who lost Jerry."

"Trace..," she tries to object, but the Detective-in-training will have none of it.

"Andy, it's okay," she promises her friend. "So, focusing on you and Swarek," Traci picks up their conversation. "It's been six days since you heard from him?"

"Yeah..," Andy breathes. The realization of how long it's been since she's seen or heard from him having the same effect as a knife through her heart.

Traci knows that Sam is closed off on a good day, and loosing Jerry has certainly not changed that character trait about him.

But one thing that she _does_ know is that he loves Andy. Despite the fact that according to Andy, he hasn't said those three little words yet.

"I'm trying to give him some space, the space that he's as much as said that he needs. But this silent treatment really isn't cutting it for me, Trace. I want to go through this with him, but all he's doing is shutting me out completely."

Traci nods her head. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

"Yeah..," she exhales tilting her head to the side, resting it on top of Traci's shoulder.

* * *

"Easy now!" Oliver's voice carries from the doorway of the mat room, arms folded in front of his chest as he watches his friend pound the living daylights out of the black punching bag.

Sam takes a step back from the bag, bringing his right arm up to wipe away the sweat that has in the past thirty minutes assembled itself on his face.

"What's it to you?" he asks blowing out a deep breath watching Shaw close the door behind him and walk towards him.

"What's it to _me_?" he asks jabbing a finger at his black Kevlar vest with the designated nametag on it. Oliver almost doesn't recognize this man standing in front of him. _This_ isn't his brother, not _this_ weakened version of him anyways. "No, Sam," he says. "What's it to _you_? What is going on with _you_?"

"Me?" Sam asks incredously unstrapping the gloves from his hands that are raw and reddish – undoubtedly from the number of blows he has used them to throw at the punching bag.

"Yeah, _you_..," he answers.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Shaw," he denies grabbing a towel and drying his face with it.

"Yes, _you_ do." Oliver states.

"Just leave it alone, Shaw..," Sam sighs turning around to walk away, but Oliver is one step ahead of him, grabbing him by the elbow and forcing him to look him in the eyes.

"Can't do that, sorry," he says.

"Whatever." Sam scoffs rolling his eyes at him.

"You're testing my patience here, brother," Oliver warns him with an arched eyebrow. "You're not the only one, who lost him, y'know?" he tells him placing his hands at his waist in a defensive stance.

Jerry and Sam had always been closer than Oliver and Sam had or Oliver and Jerry for that matter, but he has always known that his two buddies would have his back when push comes to shove. So, that's exactly what he is doing right now.

Being there for Sam, and simultaneously trying to prevent him from making the biggest mistake of his life – if he hasn't already that is.

"I don't have time for this," Sam declares grabbing the hem of his shirt and shaking it – thus letting air come into contact with his wet skin.

"Then _make_ time," Oliver replies grabbing his arm when Sam tries to walk away again.

The thing is that Sam knows what his friend is trying to tell him. But it's too late; the damage has already been done. Andy probably wants nothing to do with him anymore, and he really can't blame her – he doesn't want her consumed with his anger and guilt, and now she won't be.

"I have to get ready," he informs Shaw eying the clock on the wall.

"Not until you've heard me out," he tells Sam in an unwavering tone of voice.

"Whatever..," he sighs shaking his head from side to side.

"I get that you're blaming yourself, alright..?" Oliver starts. "For what happened with Jerry," he clarifies when Sam just gives him that confused look that he sometimes gets on his face. "But pushing McNally away isn't the answer here, brother."

"Thank you, _Dr. Ruth_," Sam quips grabbing his duffel off of the floor before walking towards the door leading into the hallway.

"Sam..?" Shaw flails his arms around in an exasperated move indicating that he isn't done with his _talk_ with him.

"Have to get ready, Ollie," he says before disappearing from view.

The truth of the matter is that he doesn't need Oliver telling him what Sam already knows in his gut. His wanting to protect Andy has effectively pushed her away.

Maybe for good.

* * *

"You wanna talk about it?" Nick asks at noon when he and Andy are sitting in the cruiser eating a couple of sandwiches.

She looks at him with a confused look on her face, "Talk about what?" she asks re-wrapping her half-eaten sandwich – not feeling hungry. Actually she hasn't been hungry for weeks it seems, her stomach has been in turmoil for the past six weeks, actually.

"Swarek..," he tells her pointedly raising an eyebrow at her. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out that _this_..," Nick holds up the self-help book Andy had introduced him to the minute he'd started prodding at her recent break-up with Swarek this morning. "Won't do it alone."

"I'm fine."

"Riiiiiiiiiiiight..," he drawls out the word looking at her profile, as she watches the park that they're parked in front of.

"I _am_," she says stubbornly.

"So, that's why you couldn't keep from looking at him in parade?" Nick asks wiping his mouth with the napkin after having devoured his BLT.

"Nick, please just don't..," Andy looks at him with pleading eyes, begging him to stop this.

To stop making her think about him.

About _Sam_.

"You were crying." Nick states referring to this morning when he'd found her in their cruiser drying away tears right before she'd introduced him to that self-help book of hers.

"I'm..," Andy begins to say, but is cut off by her partner.

"Fine! Yeah, I heard you the first time," he tells her with a crooked smile on his lips.

All she really wants is for Nick to drop it, but from what she knows Collins isn't easily deterred when he's dead set on something.

"He asked me to give him the keys to his truck back this morning," Andy tells him – without even wanting to.

"Swarek gave you the keys to his truck?" Nick turns around abruptly in the passenger seat of the cruiser – his mouth wide open in shock. "And you didn't have to threaten him?" he adds blinking his eyes rapidly earning him a swift slap on the arm by Andy.

"Shut up!"

"I'm sorry, but it's just..," he says. "When a man gives a woman the keys to his truck, it's a _big_ thing. He may as well spray paint that he loves you across the sky."

Andy can't even look at him; Sam has never told her that he loves her. In fact his actions since she came back from Temagami have pretty much testified to the opposite.

"He didn't," she exhales deeply.

"Swarek doesn't come across as a guy, who's good at expressing his feelings, McNally," Nick says placing a hand on her arm to get her to look at him. "But he _does_ care about you, even _I_ can see that," he declares pointing a finger at himself.

"Meaning..?" Andy asks shrugging her shoulders.

"You give him some time, and I'm sure he'll come around. I mean, it's not like he's running around chasing tail is it?" he quips making her scowl at him.

"'_Chasing tail'_?" she mouths the words at him making Nick laugh out loud – a real belly laugh.

"I just think that there's still a chance. I mean, it's not like he's actively trying to get over you, is it?" he asks.

"No..," Andy shakes her head in the negative.

Actually, coming to think of it, she really doesn't think that Sam even dated back when she'd been with Luke. She never saw him with anyone or heard any talk of it.

The only woman from his past that Andy has met had been Monica, and Sam's reaction to her had been lukewarm at best.

"So..?" Nick prods her when she seems to have been staring into space for a while.

"Maybe you're right..," she begins to say, but is cut off when her cell phone starts buzzing in the pocket of her uniform pants.

Pulling it out, Andy's eyes take in the unknown caller-ID that's flashing back at her. Taking a deep breath, she brings the cell phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

* * *

"You did what?!" Oliver barks at Sam.

They are sitting in the cruiser enjoying a much-needed break after the continuous stream of calls they've attended to.

They got word from the division that one of the cruisers needed to be relieved of duty, and due to this the rest of them might get busy this afternoon.

That had proved to be an understatement.

"Nothing," Sam grumbles pinching his nose. He can't believe that he's just told Shaw everything that has gone down between him and Andy lately.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Originally, Sam had figured that if anyone, Oliver would agree with him, side with him – but boy had he been wrong about that one.

"Brother," Oliver tries to rein his temper in before continuing. "You shouldn't be pushing her away right now, _you_ need _her._"

He can't help but scoff at what Shaw is telling him. He has pushed her away for _that_ reason alone; he doesn't want her to drown in all of his crap.

There's a lot of it.

"Shaw…"

"Don't give me that Shaw-business," he warns him, drilling a finger into his right bicep through his uniform jacket. "You're afraid." Sam's eyes all but bulge out of his head at _that_ statement.

"It's a done deal." He states.

Now it's Oliver's turn to scoff at Sam. "Nothing's _ever_ set in stone with the two of you."

"It is _this_ time," he maintains.

He doesn't buy what Sam is selling him. He knows that what's holding him back from being honest with Andy about Jerry's death is the very thing that defines who he is.

The guy is _complicated _at best.

"Then you probably don't want to know where she and Collins are right now, eh?"

Sam looks quizzically over at Shaw, who is now cradling his cell phone in the palm of his hand. "What are you talking about?" he asks frowning.

"Not so _done_ then, eh?" Oliver asks with a raised brow.

"Tell me!"

"Collins fired me a text," he explains holding his free hand up in mock-surrender eying the darkness that has taken up residence in Sam's eyes. "Claire's been in an accident, and he and McNally are downtown with her."

"Downtown _where_?" he asks starting up the car.

"'_Memorial'_," Oliver tells him with a knowing look on his face.

The tires screech when Sam pulls away from the curb.

* * *

"You don't have to stay here," Andy tells Nick when they've been waiting in the ER for what seems like hours, when it's probably only been thirty minutes or so.

Placing a firm hand on one of her bopping knees, her partner gives her his stern, but calming look telling her that he's got her back.

"You won't get rid of me that easy, Andy."

Scoffing, she thinks back to the night when Sam had said something very similar to her, the pair of them having sat on the tail gate.

Ironically enough, it had been at the end of the day when Andy's mother had returned to her life in the middle of a case involving children.

And right now, Claire is in a room being taken care of by Toronto's finest doctors. She had been rammed into in an intersection on the way back from a case.

The hospital had called 15 Division after a much weakened victim had told them to call there and ask for someone by the name of McNally.

Andy's focus switches to be focused on a doctor in blue scrubs approaching them with a confident look in his eyes; something that tells her that everything will be okay.

"Claire McNally?" he says eying the two officers who have just stood up from where they were sitting. The man has what looks like a vice grip on the woman's hand – displaying what could only be seen as a close relationship.

"Yes," the woman pipes up. "I'm her daughter," she says like it's hurtful for her to admit to that fact. "Andy. Andy McNally."

"I'm Dr. Graves," he introduces himself. "I've been treating your mother since she was brought in." The doctor explains moving his eyes from Andy and to the male officer standing next to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologizes realizing that she hasn't introduced Nick to the doctor yet. "This is my partner; Nick Collins."

Doctor Graves nods his head at him acknowledging his presence before indicating with an outstretched hand that they should all take a seat.

"How is she?" Andy asks sitting in-between the doctor and Nick with her eyes trained on the doctor.

"Miss McNally," the doctor begins but is waved off by Andy.

"Andy, please. How is she?" she wants to know.

Clearing his throat Dr. Graves tells her that Claire is stable, but that she has sustained a couple of bruised ribs from the car collision.

"She's lucid but battling a nasty headache. We've put in a call to her husband, but he's out of town due to a seminar, and won't be able to get here before tonight."

"Oh..," Andy chews at her bottom lip taking in the information. She and Claire have talked about Andy meeting Greg, but her breakup from Sam has kind of put a wrench in those plans. What she _does_ know about Claire's husband is that he's a Professor at the University – and that is something that her father has told her.

"You able to stay here with her until he gets here?" Doctor Graves asks.

"I don't..," Andy starts to say, but is cut off by Nick.

"Shouldn't be a problem."

She turns slightly in the chair to look at Collins giving him a look that speaks of trepidation and exasperation.

"I'll call Frank and tell him that we won't be able to pick things up like I told him we probably could, and that we'll stay here with your mom."

"Nick, seriously, you don't have to..," Andy argues with him, not wanting to put him on Claire-watch with her, but at the same time knowing that he won't take no for an answer.

"You're not going through this alone, Andy," he persists vehemently. "Not on top of everything else."

"Okay," she smiles small at him, watching, as he gets up, pulling his cell phone out of his jacket pocket before dialing Best.

"You can go and sit with her," Doctor Graves informs her standing up.

"Thank you, Doctor," Andy thanks him getting to her feet as well.

Nodding his head, the doctor walks away to tend to his other patients, while Andy stays frozen to the spot. She appreciates Nick being there for her, but on the inside, where it counts, she only wants one person to be there _with_ her.

_For_ her.

And that's Sam.

_Sam._

* * *

"Don't you want to go in and sit with her?" Nick asks when he meets up with Andy standing outside the room where Claire is in.

Releasing a breath, she looks up at him with uncertain eyes. "Things aren't exactly simple between me and Claire."

Nodding his head, Nick tells her that he knows the story between them having been on scene when Andy had run into Claire, while on a case.

"But I think it'd be good for you," he adds.

"Maybe," Andy tells him shrugging her shoulders apathetically.

"Hey," Nick grasps her by the shoulders and makes her look him in the eyes. "It's okay to admit that you're having a hard time with everything, Andy. But pushing everyone and everything away won't lessen the pain."

"I know," Andy admits feeling a tear trickle down her cheek. "When did you get so smart?" she asks using the back of her hand to dry away the liquid from her skin.

"It's a gift," Nick quips before pulling her into his arms. Andy wraps her arms around his waist, as he rubs a hand up and down her back in a soothing motion.

"Go easy on her alright?" Shaw advices Sam, as his friend unbuckles his seatbelt and begins to get out of the cruiser.

"I'm not an animal, Ollie," he retorts before slamming the door shut and making his way to the entrance of _'Memorial'_.

Scoffing at Sam's retreating figure, Shaw pulls out a second lunch and begins munching on a sandwich figuring that he might as well make the best out of the situation.

Passing nurses and doctors on his way to the floor that Nick has texted Oliver that he and Andy are on; Sam is hit with second thoughts.

Should he even show up?

He and Claire have never agreed on anything – least of all Andy.

In fact her reappearance in McNally's life has sparked a fight or two as Sam remembers it – between him and Andy. Fights that came about because Sam had been trying to protect her from being hurt again.

* * *

"_I can't even believe you did that! Behind my back! Over something that really doesn't concern you!"_

"_She finds herself back in your life – by accident – and now she wants to be a part of your life? I'd hate to see her break your heart again."_

"_You know, I don't need you weighing in on everything."_

"_Andy, you said you liked messy. Well, this is me, messy, okay? I made a mistake. I went about it the wrong way. I'd like to give you a ride home."_

* * *

Sam makes his way around a corner on the fifth floor when the sight a couple of yards ahead of him makes him clench his fists violently.

G.I. Joe has his arms wrapped around Andy, running his hands up and down her back, while she has her head tucked underneath Nick's chin.

And what makes _this_ scenario ten times worse?

She doesn't seem to mind it.

At all.

* * *

**A/N2: **I promise on all that's McSwarek that Nick will **NOT **stand in the way of Sam and Andy, his role in **THIS** story is purely that of a sounding board for Andy.

_Next up: How does Sam deal with Andy's new friend? And what does Andy do when she spots Sam in the hospital?_

Stay tuned!

And happy watching tonight ;)


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